History of Middle-Earth
by Silver Butterfly 111
Summary: A series of one-shots focusing on the tales of Middle-Earth. It begins with Isildur's struggle to destroy the Ring. Part of the 100-Drabble Challenge created by the wonderful NirCele. The prompt list was given to me by LadyLindariel. [Discontinued]
1. Fire

**1) Fire**

* * *

Elrond felt the oppressive heat as he stepped into Mount Doom, it pressed down on him with an almost physical strength. Making his golden armor hot to the touch and almost unbearable to wear.

He got as close to the edge of the cliff as he dared and looked out upon the lake of fire.

This was Hell. Plain and simple, this was where all their trouble had been started and this was where it would end.

"Cast it into the fire!" He screamed over the roar of the mountain as he turned to face Isildur who stood stone-faced at the other end of the cliff.

"No." Came the reply, nearly drowned out by the fire that was rumbling in anger beneath them.

Elrond froze and he felt his hope began to die as he looked upon the face of Isildur. There was a fire in his eyes, the fire of greed and corruption and triumph burned within him. The power of the Ring had already begun to claim him.

Everything was going so wrong, and here Elrond was, a few strides and the swing of his already bloodied sword could end this human's life and he could simply cast the corpse and the Ring into the burning pit below and be done with this suffering. End it for everything and everyone in Middle-Earth. What was one life compared to the thousands that had already died in this battle alone.

And yet his sword was left useless at his side as Isildur turned and strode out of the cavern of fire.

Be it cowardice or fate or pity that had stayed his hand and prevented him from killing Isildur that day. The Ring had escaped its own destruction but Elrond would see it end, be it the Ring or the World that went up in flames.

He would see it end one way or another.

* * *

 **Reviews and** **construive critisim for this chapter and any of the following chapters is greatly appreciated, I want to grow as a writer. Even if you _don't_ like something tell me what you don't like and why. Everyone hates negativity but I'm honestly curious about your opinion. I make an effort to respond to each review through a PM if you're a guest I will respond to you in the next chapter unless you don't want me to. **


	2. Celebration

**17) Celebration**

 **AN: I don't own LOTR. Faelon is an OC created for the purpose of this story. He may show up in some of the other chapters or a different story entirely as of now I have not decided.**

* * *

Faelon placed the crown upon his head that would name him king.

"Aaye Thranduil Oropherion! Aaye Aran Thranduil, Eryn Lasgalen. (Hail Thranduil, son of Oropher! Hail King Thranduil, of Greenwood.)

There was a mighty cheer.

* * *

It had been months since Thranduil's father was slain in the Battle of Dagorlad. Thranduil had returned with the remains of his father's army to their stronghold in Greenwood.

Where upon returning he had locked himself in his private chambers whilst his spirit had struggled with grief for many days. Emerging only to name Faelon as his regent.

He had not slept.

He had refused to eat.

He would have succumbed to his grief completely had he not now had the responsibility of a kingdom on his shoulders.

His father had prepared him for this moment. He had just not thought it would come to him so soon.

Fealon stepped out from behind Thranduil and came instead to stand by his side, a strange proud and sad smile graced the older elf's lips and then he spoke.

"You are strong, Thranduil. grieved though you may be for your Adar's death now is not a time to weep. Your people have need of you, they will look to you now for strength and comfort, put aside your sorrows for now and celebrate with your people."


	3. Leaf

**31) Leaf**

 **I thought of the conversation between Thranduil and** **Elerrian** **at the beginning for this story after watching the Battle of the Five Armies. When Legolas mentioned that his mother died in Angmar.**

 **Timeline- Legolas was born T.A. 87 right now he is 296 years old. I don't know how elves count years so I have decided to come up with my own system.**

 **1 elf year= 74 human years. This would make Legolas 4 years old in elf years.**

* * *

"Elerrian?" Thranduil spoke softly to his Queen for he could sense her distress.

"Stay here with us?"

"You know full well I cannot." Elerrian whispered.

Thranduil sighed. "I hoped to change your mind, you know full well this is madness. To go to Angmar will bring you to your death! Our quarrel with that foul place is over."

"There is something stirring in that fortress again Thranduil, I can feel it. My father's death must be avenged."

"No one understands that feeling more than I do but you must think of our son, what will he be without his Naneth?"

Sadness entered Elerrian's eyes. "He will be strong, he has you." Elerrian departed that same hour, the sun had not yet come into the sky.

Thranduil knew his wife would likely die. He could not think of that. He had to think of his son...Who had been bizarrely quiet all morning.

Suspicious... Awfully suspicious.

He made his way down the hall to his son's room.

He made to push open the door. "Legolas?" He was met with resistance. What on earth?

He pushed harder on the door. Odd why would it not open?

"Legolas?"

There was the sound of squeaking bedsprings and the soft thudding of footfalls on the wooden floor.

"You can't come in Ada."

Thranduil took his hand off the doorknob and crossed his arms.

"Why on earth not?"

"Because as future King I forbid it, you would see the surprise."

Surprise? That didn't sound good at all.

"Well as current King I demand you open this door."

Silence.

"Legolas Thranduilion, you have until the count of three! One..."

There was the sound of something being dragged across the wooden floor.

"Two…" Thranduil put his hand on the doorknob once more. Turning it.

"Three." He opened the door as he finished speaking and his mouth dropped open as he took in the sight before him even the departure of his wife was temporarily forgotten.

"Pen tithen? What did you do to your room?!"

Legolas looked on calmly from where he sat cross-legged on his bed, twirling a leaf happily between his fingers. "Covered it in leaves!" He announced proudly.

Thranduil looked around the room in mute shock. The floor- save for the spot next to the door- was completely covered in green leaves as was the bed Legolas was sitting on.

"I see that." Thranduil replied trying to stay calm, he looked around once more….the window was open, he turned around to face the door.

"So...You barricaded the door with your desk to prevent me from entering…" said Thranduil beginning to connect the dots.

"Yes." Legolas said, matter-of-factly.

"...You climbed out your window."

"Yes."

"And collected leaves so your room would look like a windstorm has swept through it?"

"Yes."

"Legolas!" Thranduil gave an exasperated sigh. "You could have fallen and snapped your neck!"

"I didn't." Legolas reassured unnecessarily. "Go get nana, I want to show nana I want to show nana what I did, she'll like it she'll think it's pretty." Legolas beamed, twirling the leaf between his fingers, completely oblivious to where his nana was.

Thranduil sighed again and waded through the sea of leaves to sit by Legolas on the bed.

"I'm sorry pen tithen, nana isn't here right now."

"Oh." Legolas said, looking a little crestfallen.

"When will she be back? I can show her then."

"I don't know pen tithen." Thranduil replied.

* * *

 _Nana: Mom_

 _Pen tithen: little one_

 _Naneth: mother_


	4. Arrow

**71) Arrow**

 **Timeline- Legolas was born *T.A. 87**

 **Sauron came to Dol Guldur and started to draw dark creatures such as orcs and giant spiders into Greenwood T.A. 1050 this would make Legolas 963 years-old at the time of Sauron coming to Dol Guldur.**

 **Legolas is 13 in elf years which means that one elf year= 74 human years,**

 ***T.A. =Third Age**

* * *

"It is mocking me."

"It is an inanimate object Prince Legolas, it cannot mock anyone."

"It mocks me." Legolas repeated with absolute conviction.

Faelon shook his head and let a small laugh escape him. "Would you like me to ask the target to stop mocking you?"

Legolas scowled and lowered his bow to get a better look at his father's advisor. "I am glad my struggle amuses you Faelon." Legolas hissed.

"You are being-"

"Impatient? I know. You sound like my Ada."

"You will learn."

Legolas gave a resigned sigh, "It is just so frustrating."

"Many things in this world must be worked for, pen tithen, you must learn that very few things come as easily as you wish them to."

Legolas exhaled and reached behind him to grab another arrow from his quiver. He stared at it as if trying to spot some flaw in the arrow itself that could be the cause of his many failures, he was pulled out of his meticulous contemplation by a cry from one of the watchman on the castle wall.

"Orch!"

Faelon froze for only a moment, trying to pinpoint the direction the warning had come from, the guard on the southern side of the wall pitched forward and fell to the earth from his place high atop the wall. Faelon spun in the next instant, sword drawn and body acting as a shield for Legolas in an attempt to make the heir less vulnerable while the other guards atop the wall trained their arrows on the foul creature that had managed to climb the wall and slaughter one of their comrades.

Time slowed for Legolas, who stood half hidden behind Faelon and unable to take his eyes off the the body of the guard who had fallen from the wall, he couldn't really see the body, Faelon was blocking his view of it, but he knew it was there and if he lifted his head, he could see the pale orc snarling at the other guards, he saw the guards pull their bowstrings taut in one unified motion.

He felt the arrow in his own hand move toward his bow as he trained his eyes on the ugly monster on the wall.

Inhale and he pulled the arrow back, taking aim. Stepping out from behind the protection of Faelon's back.

Exhale and he felt the soft brush of the arrow feathers on his fingers as he let the arrow fly.

The arrow did not pierce the orc's heart as he intended, for the arrow wobbled in the air and instead pierced the orc in the foot, the creature let out an ear-splitting squeal and in the next moment, a volley of arrows rained down on it and ended its cry of pain, the beast toppled backward over the wall and out of sight.

Faelon turned to Legolas and seemed to be having an internal struggle with himself on whether he should praise the young prince on his courage or scold him for risking his life in an attempt to shoot an orc, the shot could have failed just as much as it had succeeded.

Faelon settled for something in between.

"You shall not attempt anything like that again until your accuracy is improved. The heart and the head, Legolas, not the foot, they can still fight and kill with a limp."

* * *

 _Orch_ : Orc

 _Pen tithen: little one_


	5. Stealing

**21) Stealing**

* * *

The filthy little Hobbites it was rude and trickyes and false. It had lied to him and taken the Perious away.

"GONE! GONE! The Precious is GONE!" LOST! Goullm, Gollum , Smeagól suffers! Because the trickyes Hobbit stole from us and cut us with its pointy metal stick!" The pitiful creature wailed. He hurts us and stole our Precious! Why does the Precious leave us? Why!? Riddles it's the riddles that did it to us! 'what has it got in its pocket oh, oh, now Goullm knows the answer, it's got our Precioussss!"

The creature hissed darkly as it banged it's boney hands on the stone in a tantrum to rival that of a toddler.

It smacked its hands against the stone and clawed and hissed and muttered and wailed and sobbed until it had nothing left.

And then it collapsed onto the cold cave floor and curled in on itself with a final sob and whisper for its Precious the creature Gollum fell asleep and dreamt of revenge on the trickyes Hobbit Baggins.


	6. Gems and Jewels

**20) Gems and Jewels**

* * *

The vast dwarf kingdom of Ereobor.

Thorin Oakensheild looked upon his newly reclaimed stronghold. With the dragon Smaug finally slain he had fulfilled the Phrocey and become King under the Mountain.

Now all that was left to do was find the Arkenstone.

Master Baggins said he hadn't found it yet, it did not matter they'd find it soon enough.

But with every passing minute Thorin was becoming more and more desperate for the King's Jewel.

The people of LakeTown were demanding payment.

That pointy-eared pixie king Thranduil had declared war over a handful of gems. Well Thorin had more than a few strong words to say about that, as if that elf was entitled to _anything_ in this mountain after he had abandoned Thorin's kin to fight the dragon in the first place! Ha.

Darker minds were turning to the Mountain as well, this Thorin had been warned about and knew.

Any sane person would say he had bigger things to worry about than trying to find one jewel in a sea of gold and jewels. Thorin was no longer sane.

Dragon sickness had infected him.

WHERE WAS HIS ARKENSTONE?!


	7. Flag of Surrender

**99) Flag of Surrender**

 **Timeline- Aragorn was born T.A. 2931 and was taken to Rivendell to be fostered by the Lord Elrond when he was 2 years old.**

 **Legolas was born T.A. 87 Which would make him 38 in elf years at the time of Aragorn's birth.**

 **The twins Elrohir and Elladan were born T.A. 130 which would mean that they are both 37 in elf years at the time of Aragorn's birth.***

 **Aragorn is 17 at this point in time.**

 ***see Author's Notes at the beginning of Chapters 3 or 4 for further details on calculation if you are confused.**

* * *

Wait.

Wait for them.

They will come.

Legolas scanned the ground beneath him with a critical eye, the odds were not in his favor. He would show them what victory was.

Elrohir and Elladan would be near impossible to detect, the young Dúnadan however would be easier to locate.

The training exercise was simple in its objective but more of a challenge when you took in the fact that the four of them were using their weapons.

There was the sound of a twig snapping and Legolas snapped his head down, to catch sigh of Aragorn rushing past him, blue flag streaming behind him like water, he scanned a perimeter around the young man, trying to spot a flash of black hair that would make it clear if Aragorn was being guarded by one of the twins.

Seeing nothing else move in the trees except Aragorn, Legolas abandoned his post in the tree, climbing down nimble as a spider and taking off after his target.

He fired a warning shot, the arrow whistling past Aragorn's ear embedding itself in a tree trunk a few feet to the right.

Aragorn spun around, the blue cloth floating down to rest in the grass as the young man drew his sword a moment before Legolas was upon him.

Aragorn landed on the ground as his feet were knocked out from under him. "No fair! I wasn't ready!"

"All is fair in war," Legolas said as he stepped over Aragorn who lay motionless on the ground. Legolas had evidently knocked the air out of his friend's lungs.

He tried to not feel guilty about it as he snatched the silky blue cloth off of the ground. "Mind if I take this?" Aragorn moaned softly from his spot on the ground.

Legolas straightened and caught sight of the glint of sunlight on metal.

Elrohir emerged from the trees, sword drawn.

"I would take issue with you touching our flag and would kindly ask you to hand it over before I have to take it from you."

Legolas dropped his bow and the flag as he grinned at Elrohir and drew his own sword. "Come and take it then."

Aragorn had enough air in his lungs to retreat to what he assumed was a safe distance and was immediately enchanted by the deadly sight of the two elves as they sparred.

Locked in a deadly dance, spinning and weaving, dodging and trying to land blows to each other.

Yin and yang, vengeance and the desire for victory and glory.

Aragorn wondered if he'd ever fight with that much determination one day.

Elladan appeared at his brother's side and together they began to drive Legolas off, watching Legolas and Elrohir fight had been amazing.

Watching Elrohir and Ealldan fight was breathtaking.

The two brothers moved as if they shared one body and one mind, completely in sync.

Elladan got past Legolas' defenses and the blonde elf was on the ground, scowling.

"Now, Legolas all is fair in war, mellon nîn." Elrohir said, laughing at the indignant look on the Sindarin elf's face.

Aragorn smiled.


	8. Language Lesson

**48) Language Lesson**

* * *

The halls of the Last Homely House were just beginning to stir. Aragorn and Legolas had been up since dawn. Hidden among the books in Lord Elrond's library.

Aragorn was frustrated.

Legolas was patient, if a little amused by Aragorn's frustration.

"Can we be done with this pointless endeavor?"

"Goheno nin, mellon _._ "

Aragorn gave Legolas a glare that promised pain and suffering, Legolas was glad he'd had the foresight to insist Aragorn leave all possible weapons outside of the room. Otherwise Aragorn would have attempted to cause him actual injury by now.

As it was the elf simply met his friend's hostile stare with a smug grin.

"Pedin i phith in aníron, a nin ú-cheniog."

Aragorn must have at least understood the last phrase do to the context of their conversation because he grabbed the first thing he could reach- a large book- and threw it at Legolas, who caught it reflexively and examined the front cover with a nonchalant boredom before looking at Aragorn with a raised eyebrow.

"Well I wouldn't feel the desire to hit you with books if you would just speak like a normal human being!"

Aragorn watched as Legolas shook his head, still grinning and gestured at his own pointed ears.

"Yeah, I get it you're not _actually_ a human. Please just stop speaking in ,Sindarin we've been at this for hours!"

Legolas rolled his eyes.

"I don't care if I sound dramatic, I'm tired of trying to figure out what your saying. Will you please stop?"

"Estel, saes?"

A shadow passed over Aragorn's face. "That is not my name."

Legolas sighed and gave his friend a sympathetic look. He opened his mouth again to speak and offered Aragorn the small mercy of foregoing speaking his native tongue.

"Aragorn?"

The Ranger gave a grateful sigh and his eyes softened in acknowledgement of the fact that Legolas was now speaking a human tongue, a forced smile appeared on his lips.

Legolas did not return his smile. His blue eyes had turned shadowed. "Estel?"

Pain crossed Aragorn's face. "Please, don't call me that." The plead little more than a whisper.

"It is your name why should I not call you by your name?"

Aragorn stood then from where the two of them had been sitting on the floor, ignoring the pin prick feeling of blood rushing back to his legs. "Because I am no one's hope! I do not know how to give anyone hope!"

There was silence for a moment after his outburst, much in the way there is silence after thunderstorms.

Aragorn looked down upon his elven friend who in turn looked up at him, it was not pity that he saw in his friend's blue eyes. It was faith, faith and confidence and the loyal trust of one who had seen more than he had.

"Do not despair mellon nîn," Legolas stood as well, his movement slower and more fluid in a way that spoke of his elven grace and years of battle training. "You think that this name has been forced upon you and you fear that you will bear this weight on your own. You will find your path, and you will walk on it in your own way, I will walk with you, should you have need of me."

Aragorn smiled then, a genuine smile and his friend returned it. "Hannon le. Mellon nîn." Legolas' eyes shone with triumph. They were making progress in more ways than one.

* * *

 _Goheno nin, mellon_ : I am sorry, friend

 _Pedin i phith in aníron, a nin ú-cheniog:_ I can say what I wish and you can't understand me

 _Estel, saes_ : Estel, please

 _Hannon le:_ Thank you


	9. Pet

**2) Pet**

* * *

The odd thought that had crossed his mind more than he cared to admit.

Bilbo was sitting in his chair and smoking his pipe when the thought occurred to him again. _Why not get a pet?_ The idea was trivial and pointless what use did he have for a pet? They were just something so unheard of. Who had ever heard of a hobbit with a pet? Besides he was far too busy thinking of other things he didn't have room in his brain to worry about some small creature.

What would he even _keep_ as a pet anyway. All the animals he'd heard of were either too big to fit in his hobbit hole or were- in some way or another- dangerous or bad-tempered. Having a pet was absurd. He concluded and went on smoking his pipe and thinking of absurd things.


	10. Wind

**7) Wind**

 **Frodo was born T.A. 2968. For the purpose of this story he is 6 and has already been adopted by Bilbo.**

* * *

The small voice reached his ears, soft and shaking.

"I'm scared." The little halfling whispered as another gust of wind battered the window outside, shaking the glass in its pane.

"Of the wind?" The older halfling questioned.

Frodo clutched at his Uncle's shirt sleeve and nodded slowly, eyes impossibly wide and shining with fear.

"It is only the wind little one, it can't hurt you."

The halfling child nodded again, not looking convinced as he stared at the shaking window and listened to the howling outside. "It sounds angry." Frodo squeaked.

"Look on the bright side. At least it's not raining, there isn't any lighting or thunder."

The younger halfling didn't say anything.

Bilbo sighed.

"Shall I tell you a story? Will that help?"

Frodo took his eyes off the window at last and grinned at his Uncle.

"Yes, please, please can you tell the one about the dragon? Please?"

Bilbo smiled. "I always tell that one." He complained.

"I don't care I like it! Please?"

"Alright, alright I will tell it again, but only if you promise to try and forget about the wind."

"Promise." Frodo squealed with delight.

"There's my brave little nephew."


	11. Hobby

**8) Hobby**

* * *

He really needed to get a hobby something to do in his spare time. Gandalf mused over the possibilities.

 _Those hobbits are curious little creatures._

He would have liked to spend more time in the Shire with them.

 _Fireworks._ He decided. His hobby would be making fireworks. It seemed a good enough excuse to use his magic for something so light-hearted.

And it would give him a fair reason to go back to the Shire in between his other adventures.


	12. Far-fetched

**81) Far-fetched**

* * *

Aragorn knew he was being watched as he stepped into The Prancing Pony.

The men sitting at the table next to his were casting him uneasy glances every so often and talking about him in suspicious tones.

"Strider. Rumors have it that he's really Aragorn, heir of Isildur future King of Gondor."

The second man looked at him, eyes squinted. "Seems far-fetched if ya ask me. Whoever started that tale must've been drunk."

Aragorn ignored the insult to his heritage. He did not even react to the gossiping men.

His attention was focused on four hobbits that had entered the bar room.

One in particular held his attention.

The hobbit had black curly hair and seemed understandably uncomfortable with his new surroundings.

He kept fidgeting and playing with something in his hand.

Aragorn blinked.

The hobbit had been there one moment and gone the next.

Aragorn blinked again.

The little hobbit was still gone.

Now _that_ seemed far-fetched.

Aragorn had a feeling that something was about to go very wrong very soon.


	13. Plants

**4) Plants**

* * *

The trees stood, branches swaying in the breeze as the entire earth seemed to breathe. The seasons were turning, winter giving way to spring. White snow melting to reveal the green underneath.

Even in a place such as Mirkwood- as it was now called by outsiders- which was deemed sick and cursed and dead. There was still life, spring still came here and new things grew in place where the old had died. Plants died and were reborn again in all their previous simplicity.

Not even harsh winters could truly kill this place, as long as the plants came back after the snow.

Legolas enjoyed watching the gradual changes that bridged the turning of the seasons. The determined struggle for the forest to renew itself, it seemed the forest itself had some kind of hidden courage.

As long as there were plants. No place was ever truly dead.


	14. Water

**6) Water**

 **Ethirdir is my OC from the poem River Song. You don't need to read River Song in order to understand this I just wanted to use the character again.**

* * *

Ethirdir gazed at the river the roar of it filled his ears as he watched the water rush onward, it was said that water was the purest thing in this world. That it still contained music from the very creation of the world.

His Ada and Nana had named him after the river.

The deep rumble of the river was joined by a clash of thunder and the gray clouds overhead burst.

Some odd sense of satisfaction entered him in that moment.

His vision was blurred with raindrops and it seemed like all else fell away. He could see only water.

Blue and white and gray. Gentle on his skin yet violent and threatening just below his feet.

He turned his face away from the river and towards the sky, smile on his lips.

A laugh escaped him then, the sound a bell of pure mirth and joy. That the world could be so changed by something as small as the raindrops on his face.

Raindrops turned into the rivers and cut paths into even the most unforgiving earth. They gathered in the lakes and created depths deep enough to hide fish miles down.

They turned into the ocean which carved things like the river and was deeper than the deepest lake.

The rain, the river, the water was a creature unto its own right. It made things, but it also destroyed.

He'd seen someone dear to him swallowed up by water. Water didn't have feelings. It did not love, or hate or praise or judge anything. It simply existed.


	15. Wounds

**44) Wounds**

* * *

The blade sank into his shoulder, not deep enough to sever his arm from his body, but Frodo knew he was gravely wounded when an unatrual cold washed over him.

This was it then he was going to die. Perish here without finishing the task he'd set out to do.

He was hardly aware of anything else outside of the haze of pain, but he saw Strider appear in front of them and begin dueling with the awful wraiths.

The Duinidan chased the dark creatures away and knelt before Frodo.

The small hobbit meant to utter some brave word of encouragement to the man when he was the look of worry hanging on his face, but all that Frodo could manage was a weak moan filled with pain, he thought he heard the word "athelas" along with the words "morgual blade" "Rivendell…. Elrond…" but his hearing fled from him and his eyesight turned black and he knew nothing else for a long while.


	16. Failed Attempt

**67) Failed Attempt**

* * *

Elrond felt his heart twist with bitterness.

He had failed.

He had failed to destroy the Ring.

Had failed to stop Isuldir when he'd had the chance.

He had to send others into the danger of the shadow of the Mountain of Fire now that he had failed and as he looked upon the hobbit who had been given the task of the Ring's destruction.

There was still hope and innocence in the halflings eyes but even now he could see it was beginning to fade, Frodo had suffered from fear and from the wound of a dark blade and Elrond knew that Frodo and the rest of the Fellowship would suffer much more before journey's end.

Elrond mourned to see the haunted look beginning to take shape in Frodo's eyes.


	17. Dreams

**33) Dreams and Fantasies**

* * *

Sam had always dreamed of going off on an adventure with his friends. Much like the one that Mr. Bilbo used to tell him about. He'd always dreamed of seeing Elves and dragons and the like, but he couldn't say that in all of his fantasizing that he'd imagined they face any real danger- or least if they did that he would feel brave enough to face it.

Now as he sat behind a bush and listened in on the meeting that he hadn't been invited to he did not feel brave at all but he knew his wish for adventure would soon be fulfilled.

Though this Quest sounded far more nightmarish then Bilbo's ever had- Bilbo had lived through his adventure- Sam was not confident enough to say that he'd survive this, some slight hope remained as he whispered to himself. "Careful what you wish for. Samwise oh you're about to step into a world of trouble."

* * *

 **AN: So far I've tried to stay as close the book as possible but the scene from the movie version of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ fit this prompt a little better in my head. Yes in the book Sam and Merry and Pippin weren't invited to the meeting either but Sam didn't hide in the book he was just kind of sat there next to Frodo and Elrond was 'you weren't invited but since you're here go with Frodo that might teach you a lesson or two.'**


	18. Threats

**5) Threats**

* * *

Shadows.

Fire.

Darkness.

The promises of suffering and death.

Future pain, screams, tears and blood.

Orcs and trolls and goblins would make dark legions bent on destruction.

Galadriel pulled herself away from her mirror with a physical effort and a gasp of pain and still the awful images flashed before her eyes, burned themselves onto the back of her eyelids so that even in sleep she could never forget the ominous looming threat that was growing and advancing upon the Free people of Middle-Earth every second of every day and night. The clock was ticking and more than half the world was oblivious to the fact that the threat even existed.

The Shadow was growing.

Mordor was stirring.

Galadriel pitied those who didn't understand the true weight of what was to come, yet she couldn't help but have a small piece of her soul wish to be ignorant like most were.

Sauron was awaking.

The future of Middle-Earth rested rested on the shoulders of a hobbit by the name of Frodo Baggins and his eight companions.

Success was unlikely.

Failure was unthinkable.

War was coming.


	19. Tradition

**9) Tradition**

* * *

With the first snowfall came the Winter feast where his people would wander amid the trees in the chill air of night, under the white eyes of the stars and moon.

Where Faelon would remove the crown of branches and red-orange leaves from his head and place there a crown of holly, red berries and ivy to signify the changing of the seasons as was custom.

Thranduil was not concerned with the trivial preparations for the winter feast- aside from any major preparations that required his presence in order to proceed he left the majority of planning to Faelon and the other minor lords on his council- the Elvenking had other- more sorrowful thoughts to occupy his mind- this would be the first solstice feast in a long while that he would spend without Legolas, his son had gone off into danger and Thranduil could only hope that his son's fate was not an ill one- he missed his son more than he would openly admit and it made him feel somewhat ignored and distant as he watched his subjects prepare for the feast from afar, how could they feel joy when his own was so far away?


	20. Breaking the Habit

**AN: If you wanted to I suppose you could consider this chapter and the one before it as companion shots.**

 **11) Breaking the Habit**

* * *

"Your people are concerned with your well being Thranduil."

"I assure you that I am fine."

"How much wine have you had Thranduil?"

"That is none of your concern."

"If you go on like this you will drink yourself to death."

Thranduil's eyes grew distant as he stared into the red liquid that filled his goblet.

"Your son leaving was through no fault of your own. He merely wishes to do his part to protect his home from the growing threat in Mordor,"

"He was only supposed to go to Rivendell to warn them of the creature Gollum's escape."

Faelon sighed. "You and I both know you could not shelter him forever, even our own home is suffering from the pull of the darkness."

"When he was here it did not seem as bad, I knew when he was hurt, I could have helped him, watched over him like I promised Elerrian….Now he is so far away and I don't know if he will ever return to me…..If I am to lose him as well as my wife. I fear I will shatter beyond repair."

Faelon gave Thranduil a sympathetic look.

The King did not notice, he traced the rim of his wine glass with a long finger. "Tell me mellon nîn, why the wine looks so much like blood "

Faelon approached his King and took the wine goblet gently from the royal's grip.

"Your son will return to you Aran nîn, he is much too stubborn for death. It will not do either of you any good if he returns to find you in a drunken coma."

 _Aran nîn: My king_


	21. A Book

**34) A Book**

* * *

Quill in hand Bilbo bit his lip as he considered the words before him on the cream colored parchment. He growled in annoyance and with a violent sweep of his writing instrument crossed out a single word here an entire sentence there.

There was a soft knock at the door and the old hobbit debated on sending whoever it was away but thought better of it when he scowled at the black ink on the page and decided a break would be well deserved.

"Come in then." He called and the door swung open gracefully on its hinges, revealing a dark-haired ellon- one of the twin sons of Elrond- Elrohir? Bilbo thought. Now was he the younger or the older of the two?

The elf crossed the room even as he spoke. "I was sent to find you. No one remembers seeing you at dinner the paranoia of my father knows no bounds he was concerned you had wandered off and gotten yourself into trouble."

"My days of wandering and getting into trouble are over and your father knows that."

"Still he has concern for you. I think he would rather you got into trouble for once, keep him on edge it's good for him and I dare say it would be good for you, you hardly leave this room of yours anymore it seems."

"I've been busy!" Bilbo replied somewhat more snappishly then he'd meant.

Thankfully the young elf lord did not seem offended. "With your book?" Elrohir inquired, coming to stand over the hobbit's shoulder. "I thought you said it was finished."

"My part of it is yes, I am trying to write Frodo's half." Bilbo turned again to face the pages.

"May I?" Elrohir asked, looking at the pages and Bilbo picked up the book without closing it so as not to smear the still drying ink.

Elrohir took the book in his hands and sat down on the edge of the bed. His gray eyes thoughtfully scanning the page. He lifted his head after a moment, one eyebrow rasied in a guseture that reminded Bilbo of the elf's father.

"Why do you mar the page?"

Bilbo suddenly became embarrassed that he'd scribbled out so much. "The ending is not coming out right," he grumbled. Elrohir could not keep a bit of a laugh from his voice. "No wonder you are so stuck, you are trying to write what has not happened yet."

"Your people seem to be gifted with knowing what has not happened yet, I see know reason why you should laugh."

"The gifts of foresight that are bestowed upon my father and the Lady Galadriel are not as helpful as you are lead to believe. They see the future yes, but they see many possibilities of what might happen of any countless number of events. Some more probable than others, it really comes down to a matter of judgement, not even my father or the Lady of Light could tell you with complete certainty how the Quest to Mount Doom will end."

"I just want it to be a happy ending." Bilbo sighed.

Elrohir's gray eyes lightened until they were almost the color of silver. "Do not we all wish for good to triumph over evil?"

* * *

 **The reason I called Elrohir a lord is because he is the son of Lord Elrond and the son of a Lord is also called a Lord. Just in case you were confused at all.**


	22. Count Down

**16) Countdown**

* * *

"You two have until the count of one to come out of there you troublesome ingrates!" Erestor howled from the other side of the closed door, the twins merely snickered seemly unfazed by the older elf's threat….well not entirely unfazed but there was just something so amusing about causing such rage in one who was normally so calm and collected.

"Ten." Erestor growled.

"It was an accident!" Elrohir protested, unable to keep from laughing.

"Nine." Erestor continued, oblivious to Elrohir's pleading.

"It's just a hole in the wall, not even a hole really more of a chip in the wood." Elladan attempted to back up his brother.

"Eight."

"I don't see why we should be punished, it's honestly a question of structural integrity. I mean honestly if an arrow can go through a wall that easily then someone didn't build proper walls." Elladan reasoned.

"Seven, do not make me get the key. You do _not_ want me to unlock this door myself!"

"It's not our fault we lack archery skills! That's why we were practicing! It's not like we _wanted_ to poke holes in the wall on purpose, do you take us for destructive heathens?"

Elrohir turned to his brother. "We should really try to pay attention to Legolas next time he tries to give us instruction."

"That would likely involve admitting to not paying attention the last time. He would taunt us and hold that knowledge over our heads for all of eternity. No exaggeration, especially if he hears about the situation we are currently in." Elladan pressed his back harder against the door. "You really think Legolas will find out about this?" Elrohir asked looking embarrassed at the very thought.

"Six, I can hear every word you two are saying, perhaps I should inform Prince Legolas of this next time I see him as part of your punishment." Erestor mused aloud.

"That would be a yes then, alright we'll forgive you for considering telling Legolas if you agree we shouldn't be punished this time."

"Five. I'm getting the key."

The twins looked at each other in panic as they heard retreating footsteps. "We explained ourselves quite well I thought." Elrohir said to his brother whom nodded in agreement. "There will be no escape from this my dear brother."

The twins slide to the floor in defeat, looking around the room as they both contemplated exactly _how_ much trouble they would be in once Erestor returned with the keys and unlocked the door.

Elrohir sat up straighter as an idea took shape in his brain, he turned to face his brother. "...No escape you say….unless we climb through the window." He said tilting his head toward the window in question.

They stood and ran for the window as they heard Erestor's returning footsteps.


	23. Betrayal

**AN: First attempt at writing Sauraman's POV in any of my stories. Ever. Hope it's not horrible.**

 **12) Betrayal**

* * *

Sauraman did not consider his actions towards Gandalf a betrayal. It was Gandalf who had refused to see the truth of his statements. Some may have said that he betrayed his very purpose for being on this earth! How absurd and wrong they were.

He had been Sauraman the White. Destined for power and glory.

Simply changing his title did not change that.

So what if he switched sides? That was all anything ever was switching sides, making alliances; a long complex game to see who had power over who.

If anything Gandalf had betrayed his own gift of wisdom, he was an outright fool for not seeing Sauraman's desires sooner, was a fool for not coming to his senses and not joining alongside Sauraman when he was offered the chance. No matter, Sauraman did not see his former friend as a threat. He would be dealt with soon enough.


	24. Cold

**54) Cold**

* * *

"Curse this snow! Curse this cold!" Gimli lamented as he trudged through the mountain pass.

The elf had the nerve to laugh.

"I would have thought dwarves accustomed to such ill temperatures what with you living under mountains away from the sun."

Gimli shot him a look.

"We are miners and craftsman at heart not worms that hide away from the light, we like the sun as much as anyone."

"It does no good to bicker about who loves the sun more, we should all worship the sun equally if she ever shows her face here." Gandalf replied in an attempt to prevent a possible fight.

Both arguing members of the Fellowship shut their mouths lest they suffer the wrath of the wizard.

The company made slow progress through the mountain it was some moments before Gimli spoke again, this time a direct question to Legolas.

"How are you _not_ complaining about the cold?"

"Elves do not feel the cold Master Dwarf."

Gimli was struck speechless for a moment.

"Well then curse you too." He growled and stormed off only half meaning his threat.


	25. Earth

**10) Earth**

* * *

They went into the mines. Down and down and down into the dark, into the dust, into the earth, unbeknownst to them they were walking into a trap, into a tomb.

The earth swallowed them up, sheltered them from the prying eyes of the bird spies that sought them out from above.

There were enemies waiting for them under the earth.

The stone shook and rumbled with the beat of drums.

The earth sheltered them, trapped them, warned them and as they watched the bridge crumble from beneath Gandalf's feet even as the Balrog fell. The Company came to realize that the earth had saved them even as it betrayed them by taking one of their own as payment. Thus they fled from the broken bridge of Khazad dum.


	26. Falling

**61) Falling**

* * *

Gandalf was falling.

No. Not falling. He was _tumbling_! Head over heel, down into the dark, into the earth away from the world.

There was just the shadows and the fire. And the tumbling.

He fell out of Moria into some strange in between world where he continued to fall until he forgot even his own name.

All be remembered was the almost weightlessness of being in the air. Even as the pull of gravity brought him still further down.

Until the black nothingness swallowed him up and he forget everything.


	27. Snow

**56) Snow**

 **AN: I know it's cannon that elves don't get sick or feel the cold like humans or other races do. For the sake of this one-shot I came up with the excuse that being immune to the cold was something that elves developed later in life, so that elves at least understand what cold is even if the older ones do not become effected by low temperature as much. Make sense?**

 **Anyways , possibly confusing logic aside here's some cute fluff with my OCs.**

* * *

"Adar-muindor Faelon!" the young elfling crashed into him, breathless and yet unable to stand still for even a moment as she grabbed his hand and attempted to drag him halfway to the Undying Lands. "What is it?"

"Come! See!" She insisted, trying to pull him forward and not accomplishing in the slightest.

"See what emel-Iell Ecthelwen?"

"The stars are falling!" this gave Faelon pause as he stared down at his niece…"What?"

"Stars are falling!" She repeated, pulling on his hand again with renewed strength.

* * *

Outside the sky was gray and white snow was drifting slowly downward.

 _Oh. He_ thought as understanding dawned. Ecthelwen's " falling stars" were really just snowflakes.

"It's called snow emel-Iell."

"Snow?" Ecthelwen repeated slowly with a whisper and she covered her mouth with her hands and looked alarmed.

"What now?"

"I'm turning into a dragon! I'm breathing smoke!" She cried, looking quite distressed and close to tears. Faelon chuckled softly and Ecthelwen looked at her adar-muindor with the utmost painc in her eyes. "That is not smoke, that is your breath, the air you breathe becomes visible when it gets cold." Faelon explained.

"Cold?"

Faelon let a sigh pass his lips and watched the plume of breath float away and vanish. _Valar give me patience._

He brushed his ice-cold fingers across Ecthelwen's cheek. "Cold." He said slowly.

"Cold!" She shrieked like a Nazgûl and jumped away from his touch, fleeing inside.

* * *

 _Adar-muindor: Uncle (literal translation: father-brother)_

emel-Iell: Neice (literal translation: heart-daughter)


	28. Clouds

**37) Clouds**

* * *

Pippin threw himself down in the boat, rocking the vessel dangerously but it did not tip over.

Feeling the boat rock him back and forth and lull him to a calmer state the bubbling rush of the river as he stared up into the sky.

Clouds drifted by above him.

"That one looks like a horse." Pippin mused. Pointing at one of the clouds.

Merry looked at the cloud, tilting his head. "More like a chicken if you ask me."

Pippin sat up abruptly, looking incredulously at his friend.

"It does not!"

"Yes it does!"

"Does not!"

"Does."

"I could care less what the clouds look like I'll just throw you two over the side of the boat if you don't stop arguing," Aragorn said. "One of you make yourself useful and pick up the other oar."

The hobbits shut their mouths and Merry took up the other oar while Pippin stared after the retreating cloud.

Silence reigned for a minute more before Aragorn spoke again. "It did look like a chicken."

"Ha." Merry laughed glad to have someone taking his side in the augment, Pippin scowled at the both of them and swiped his hand down into the river, splashing them with water.


	29. Fountain

**90) Fountain**

* * *

The moonlight glinted off of the marble of the fountain, washed the entire garden in a soft, shining white light.

Elrond stood before the fountain, staring at the thin streams of water as they fell from the spouts and into the larger basin, creating never ending ripples.

He'd had this fountain constructed for Celebrían as a wedding present.

Wrought of white marble and detailed with silver, it looked beautiful in daylight and outright ethereal in moonlight.

The spouts were fashioned after swans, silver wings outstretched in mock flight, water pouring from their mouths.

There had been a time after Celebrían had sailed that he would come here and cry when he looked upon the fountain and had felt her ghost standing beside him.

Now he looked upon the fountain and felt numb.

That was worse and it made him want to see her again. _See_ her, not some fading bittersweet memory that his longing heart conjured up in a fruitless attempt to help himself feel anything besides the numbness that had settled inside him. He still missed her, he just did not cry anymore. He wanted to cry but he could not seem to make tears anymore.

He would see her again, he hoped. Talk to her, touch her, feel the numbness melt away from his soul like ice.

For now he had the fountain.


	30. Retaliation

**15) Retaliation**

"Elladan!" Elrohir screamed so loudly that his own ears were ringing. The young lord of Imladris swept through the hallways in search of his meddling brother, teal colored robes swishing about him like water.

Elladan appeared a little further down the hallway , leaning against the doorframe of a closed door.

"Calm yourself brother there is no need to shout."

"You know perfectly well why I am shouting." Elrohir hissed glaring at his brother whom still had the nerve to fringe innocence.

"Where did you hide my sword?"

"Somewhere."

"Can I have it back?"

"When I return yes you may."

"You cannot keep me from going on this hunt." Elrohir protested.

"I am trying to protect you."

"I do not need or want you to try and protect me, I have just as much right to retaliate as you do have you forget what the orcs did to our mother?"

It had been the wrong thing to say. Elladan's gray eyes darken to storm clouds and his face twisted with equal measures of grief and anger.

"I will be _fine_ , Elrohir." He assured through clenched teeth, voice tight. "The guards at the border say that there are not that many, Linnor said that it was no more than a scouting party of ten or fifteen."

"Then why are more than twenty guards going? Why do _you_ need to go while I must stay behind?"

"The numbers are just precautions the orcs are getting closer to discovering an entrance into Imladris, we will take care of all of them as quickly as possible, I promise you it will be fine." Elladan replied.


	31. Letters

**92) Letters**

 **More fluff with my OC's from chapter 27 :D**

* * *

She was tugging on his sleeve, Faelon set down his pen and looked down at her. "I have important work to do emel-Iell. What do you need?"

She didn't speak as she pulled a stack of parchment off of the desk and crawled under the table with her stolen goods and soon he heard the scratch of a pen. He paused and debated whether it would be safe to to ask what she was doing. "What are you doing?" No response. Her little hand pushed the piece of parchment into his lap, refusing to come out from under the table. He looked down at the parchment and saw simple words scratched there.

"Hello to you too." He responded verbally to the words so as to coax a verbal word out of her.

The parchment disappeared as she pulled it back under the table and started writing again. The parchment returned to his lap. "I am working melui-emel." Parchment taken away, he could not seem to figure out what was going on, he asked again.

"What are you doing?" Parchment in his lap. "You cannot speak? Why not?...Are you playacting at being mute?" Patchmement disappeared. Pen scratching, parchment reappeared.

"I see." Faelon replied, finally let in on the meaning of the little game. He took up his own pen, deciding to amuse her. _Why are you being mute?_

He passed the parchment back to her. _'I used to do this with Adar….he isn't here to play anymore.'_ Faelon felt a stab of pain in his heart. _I will play with you melui-emel._

 _'Just until Adar gets back?'_

How did one explain death to an immortal child who had not seen combat and did not understand that her adar was gone?

 _It will be a long time before you see your adar again, melui-emel._

 _' ...but I have someone else to play with because you are here….promise you won't go away and leave me too? If you have to go will you tell me? So I can go with you. I do not want to be alone._

* * *

Translations:

Melui-emel: Sweetheart

emel-Iell: Neice (literal translation- heart-daughter)


End file.
